The fall of gods
by Ravenwood85
Summary: Post Last Crusade. Indy retrieved an old manucript which nazis also wanted. Somethings never change, isn’t it? But… What will happen when Indy, accidentally, travel time! Now he must try to change the future to save his own past…
1. The adventure begins

**SINOPSIS: **Indy retrieved an old manucript which nazis also wanted. Somethings never change, isn't it? But… what will happen when Indy, accidentally, travel time?! Now he must try to change the future to save his own past…

**DISCLAIMER**: I do not own Indiana Jones/Lara croft characters, but the remain ones are mine. No copyright infringement on any of George Lucas's/Steven Spielberg's works is intended. Come one Lucas! Don't be so selfish with us! :D

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**: Hey there! I want to thank KD Skywalker and Shadewolf7, for helping me with this story and, of course, thank everybody for reading it! Please enjoy! ;)

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**Chapter 1: The Adventure Begins**

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**_1940, to the north of Germany:_**

It was dark, the tiny cell filled with eerie shadows. Unforgiving gray stone and a thick wooden door gave the cell's location: one of the old castles in northern Europe.

One of the shadows shifted, though the light had not changed. A faint glimmer of reflected light showed that the shadow wasn't a shadow at all as tired eyes caught what little light there was. Another glint showed steel clasped around wrists, thick chains bolted to the wall behind the man.

For man it was. Had there been a little more light, it would have shown a middle-aged man, one who did not seem to belong in such a place.

Chains rattled as he raised a hand to rub at his face, trying to ignore the hard metal biting into his wrists. _How did I end up here? I haven't done anything… recently, anyway._

Sound outside drew the man's attention and his head came up to listen.

The door he was focused on flew open, the sudden flood of light blinding to eyes that had been so long in darkness.

When the man's eyes adjusted, he realized two men had entered, both tall with blond hair and wearing Nazi uniforms. The slightly shorter of the two was carrying an automatic rifle and positioned himself at the door, obviously a guard of some sort.

The other was all too familiar.

Tall, pale, with blond hair and icy blue eyes, he was the perfect Aryan. His uniform was more elaborate than the other's, rank bars showing he was a captain, though he could not have been older than twenty-five.

The prisoner smirked up at his captor, "Van Helgen. Only a rat like you could have been behind all this."

The German Captain smiled coldly, "A pleasure to see you again, Doctor Jones."

The prisoner lunged up and forward, intending to strike out at the smug Captain, only to be brought up short by the chains.

The chill smile morphed into a smirk as the Captain saw how the heavy manacles bit into the man's wrists, "Save your strength, Jones. You managed to escape in Norway, but I assure you, you will not have such a chance again."

The man, Jones, stood back up, grinning cockily at his captor, "Yeah, that was pretty funny, wasn't it?"

Suddenly the Captain threw a hard blow into his prisoner's stomach.

The air left the man's lungs in a harsh grunt and he doubled over, hitting his knees in pain.

The Captain drew back his fist to strike again as Jones started to straighten, glaring furiously, but someone grabbed his wrist in an iron grip, keeping him from striking.

Captain Van Helgen turned his head and nearly swore in shock, somehow managing to hide his dismay.

His superior glanced at the man kneeling on the floor, then back at Van Helgen. "Why didn't you inform me about the American?" he asked coldly in German.

Van Helgen thought quickly, moving to stand at attention, "I didn't think he was important enough to disturb you, Colonel."

Gray eyes narrowed, "He's the one who _found_ that damn map and you're telling me he isn't important!?"

Henry Jones Jr, 'Indiana' Jones, wasn't precisely fluent in German, but he was an archaeologist and linguist. He caught enough of that conversation to understand what was going on. _Who would have thought an old Egyptian map would interest the German army?_

"Where is the map?" the Colonel demanded of his subordinate.

Van Helgen kept his gaze fixed ahead. "We did not find it when we searched him, sir."

Those cold, cold gray eyes turned on Indy. "Where is the map?"

Indiana glanced over at the guard, who had the gun trained on him, and started fidgeting with one of his chains.

The Colonel took a step closer and Indy raised his hands slightly in a placating gesture, chain dangling almost comically from his left thumb. "All right, all right! Easy. I have it in a pocket sewn into the back of my jacket."

"Good boy," the Colonel growled, moving closer.

Indiana Jones was not ordinarily an overly aggressive man, but he had no qualms about defending himself. Just one more step, and…

He lunged, firming his grip on the chain with his left hand as he swung a loop of the cold links around the Colonel's throat, catching the loop with his right hand and spinning the man, yanking him back against his chest with cold steel drawn tight across his throat, restricting his breathing.

The guard fired off a single round before Van Helgen knocked the gun aside, the bullet cracking sharply against granite. "Don't shoot, you idiot! You'll hit the Colonel!"

"Oh, good, you noticed," Indy snapped sarcastically, using the Nazi as a living shield.

"Let him go, Jones," the Captain ordered, "Then we will talk."

"Nice try, Van Helgen. Give me the keys."

The Colonel was in no position to either confirm or deny the prisoner's order, as he could barely breathe, much less actually speak, so Van Helgen nodded to the guard, who cautiously moved forward to press the key ring into Jones' open left hand.

"Good, now get back."

The guard backed away as Indy managed to unlock his manacles without giving up his hostage.

"Come on, Jones," Van Helgen spat, "You can't escape. This fortress is full of our soldiers."

"Wanna bet?" Indy suddenly dropped the chain and shoved the Colonel into the Captain and guard, using the brief distraction to bolt.

He ran down the corridor, spotted a door, and opened it.

"Oops," he said to the dozen stunned soldiers staring at him, "Wrong room, sorry."

The few seconds of shock were enough for him to get back out and slam the door, darting down a side corridor and up a flight of stairs, hearing furious shouts and orders behind him.

Another flight of stairs and he heard the pounding feet behind him, gaining.

Another door caught his attention and he skidded to a halt, opening it and darting inside, slamming and locking the heavy wooden door behind him, then spun to look around.

"Oh, great. No exit." He scanned the room, noting the window. This level apparently hadn't been fixed up, yet, because there was no glass—which explained why it was so cold and damp in this room. The narrow slit was just wide enough for him to squeeze out of, though scaling a wall in the outside rain and fog would be interesting.

"I knew I should have stayed in San Francisco," he muttered as he wriggled out of the window, hearing muffled shouts from the other side of the door. He'd barely made it out when there was a sharp splintering crash as the door was broken down.

Indy dragged himself up onto the roof, not quite able to make out the German shouts below, and he started scrambling over slick tile shingles, hoping to make the castle wall before his pursuers. He did, barely, and gunshots rang out behind him, bullets sending chips of stone flying where they struck.

"Whoa!" Indiana slipped, nearly fell, and caught himself, running bent over and zig-zaging to throw off the aims of his pursuit. He ducked into a turret and swore. "Just my luck—no exit!"

With his options becoming increasingly limited, he ran for the ladder to the top of the turret, even though he knew it wouldn't do him much good, and climbed to the top of the turret. The distant roar he'd not quite registered earlier suddenly seemed a lot louder and he darted over to the edge of the turret and looked down.

It was a loooooong way down.

The castle was apparently placed on a seaside cliff, and the turret was actually built directly on top of said cliff, overlooking the ocean. Huge waves crested, spraying fountains of foamy water over jagged rock into the Cliffside and Indy whistled.

Impressive. And there was just enough of a ledge below the turret that if he could get down there…

Shouts in German took away his debating time and he scrambled up onto the low wall, intending to try and climb down the outside of the tower, when he heard someone coming up the ladder.

He looked back when the distinct 'click' of a pistol being cocked reached his ears—Van Helgen was aiming for him. At this range, no way would the German captain miss…

Indy decided to take his chances with the fall and jumped… and green light covered everything.

Van Helgen pulled himself the rest of the way onto the turret and ran to the wall, but there was no sign of his enemy, only a rapidly fading green light about halfway down the cliff, hanging above raging water.

* * *

**_1998, outside of Heliopolis, Egypt._**

The setting sun painted the desert in brilliant shades of red and gold, casting shadows the color of old blood across the entrance she had found. The map had been right, though hard to decipher, and the markings above the doorway to the crumbling, half-buried building proclaimed it a temple of Ra, the greatest of the Egyptian sun gods.

According to legend, the temple held a golden statue brought from somewhere else, though where was up to debate.

The Egyptians, fortunately, hadn't tended to booby trap their temples the way quiet a few of the South American ancients had, so she was a bit less cautious than usual while making her way into the shadowed hall.

According to the script on the map, the main worship hall of the temple should be just a little futher ahead, and if a statue really had been brought in from somewhere else, it likely would have been brought there.

There, on a pedastle in the center of the room on a slightly raised dais, was the statue. At first she thought it was Ra, but it was wearing a headresss that didn't fit with the usual shceme of the sun god. She frowned and moved closer to inspect it more carefully, noting an inscription on the pedestal itself.

It took a few minutes for her to translate it, and she actually had to pull out her small reference book for uncommon symbols as she didn't recognize a few of them.

_-The World's End is the Great Key of Time where Past and Future join in one Fate-_

"Interesting," she murmured when she finally puzzled out the message. "But you deserve a better home, now," she addressed the statue itself, reaching out to lift it from the pedestal.

The moment her fingers brushed the gleaming gold, the chamber was flooded with green light and she found herself frozen, unable to let go of the statue.

With a thundering crack, she was thrown away from the pedestal and the light flared briefly before vanishing altogether and she heard the thud of a body hitting the floor.

She had both of her pistols out, scanning the room, and spotted a man lying on the floor. She approached carefully and checked his pulse when he made no response to her footsteps.

He was unconscious.

"What just happened?" she wondered aloud.

* * *

**To be continued**


	2. Meetings

Autor's note: Hi there!! Sorry for the delay... Next time (if you like it...) I'll update sooner ;). Anyway, Thanks to all reviewers for your comments, and especially I want to thanks Shadewolf7, You're great!! :D

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**Chapter 2: Meetings**

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"Uggh…" brown eyes flickered open, their owner grimacing and raising a hand to his head.

"Oh, look. Sleeping beauty is awake at last," a light, slightly sarcastic feminine voice said.

"Wha? How… err… Where am I?" Indiana started to sit up.

"Egypt. Isn't it obvious?" The woman raised a finely arched brow in her impromptu 'guest's' direction.

The archaeologist tipped his hat back with one finger and glanced around, taking eyes of black-leather lady. "Sand, dust, hieroglyphs, broken things… Could be true." His eyes fell on something _not_ broken, "Hold it! What is _that?_"

"Touch it and you're dead," the woman warned, shifting her stance to something slightly more aggressive… that brought attention to the twin guns she wore, one slung on each hip.

Indiana wasn't perhaps as intimidated as he should have been, "It belongs in a museum!"

"No, really?" the sarcastic tinge was back.

Indy got up and made his way towards the golden statue of a man wearing the linen required of all the high-ranking or gods barring a rare few… and the _Atef_ of Osiris. He reached out without thinking, entranced by the oddly dustless gleam of ancient gold.

His hand was smacked away less than gently. "Ow! Hey!"

"What part of 'don't touch' did you not understand?" the woman snapped.

"The 'don't' part?"

She slapped him again, aiming for the already red mark on the back of his hand.

"Ow! All right, all right, take it easy!"

"Just don't touch it. I touched it and you fell out of nowhere. Hands off until we figure out what happened, got it?"

"'We?'" Incredulity laced Indy's question, "Look, lady, I'd love to help, but I've got some really angry Germans looking for me, and, trust me, you won't like them."

The woman ignored him and went back to examining the pedestal. "I think it's got something to do with this inscription," she murmured, half to herself as she traced it with a finger, careful not to actually touch engraved metal.

"Who are you, anyway? An archaeologist?"

"Lara Croft."

"And?"

"And nothing more."

"What, don't you trust me?" Indy tilted his head with a wry grin, not quite pulling off the innocent act.

"Right, trust some stranger that appears out of an ancient relic. Who're _you?_"

"Indiana Jones… and nothing more," he tossed her own words back at her with an impertinent grin.

"Dr. Jones?" There was disbelief and suspicion written in voice and stance, one hand moving slightly closer to a gun.

"You know me?"

"You? No. I've read about Dr. Jones' discoveries, and you are not him."

"Ok, you got me. I'm Mickey Mouse. Come on, lady, why would I lie?"

"Jones died nearly sixty years ago! What kind of idiot do you take me for?"

"Yeah, right," Indy snorted in disbelief, then glanced back at the woman's clothing before glancing down to the weapons at her hips. They were sleeker, somehow more deadly looking than the pistol he sometimes carried. "Unless I really died at that cliff and this is some weird version of hell. I was expecting something… worse, though…"

"Great, now he's lost his mind," Lara rolled her eyes, exasperated.

"I have not! You're the one who said I appeared out of an ancient relic! I have no idea how I got here—last thing I remember is being chased off a cliff by a bunch of Nazis, and then I'm suddenly in Egypt! You tell me what happened!"

She stared at him for several seconds, then turned back to the inscription.

"What year is it?" she demanded after a moment.

"What kind of question is that?"

"Just… humor me."

Indy rolled his eyes, "1940. Happy now?"

Lara Croft closed her eyes with a soft groan, "Oh, god…"

"What a—" Indy cut himself off and turned sharply.

"What are you doing?" Lara sounded somewhere between disbelieving and irritated, the latter directed at Indy.

"Shh! I heard something."

The two turned back to look down the main hall.

"Damn it," Lara hissed, "They followed me! Listen Jones," she turned to look at him, and he wasn't there. "Jones?" she spun around, but Jones was nowhere in sight.

She whirled back as three men entered the hall, one of whom Lara was far too familiar with. He was in his mid-forties, short and gray haired. A mercenary that she had seen a few too many times already.

"Well, well, well, Miss Croft. What a pleasure it is to see you again."

"Save it, Herman," she glared, ignoring the shotguns rather obviously pointed in her direction.

"Oh, ho… I see you've found it. Good girl," a few more steps and he was getting uncomfortably close, though the tomb raider would die before admitting that to _him_.

"I knew that giving you the map would make my job easier… all we had to do was follow you."

Oh, if there was one thing that Lara Croft hated above all else, it was being used like that. But she didn't have time to get angry, she had to keep Herman from touching the statue.

As he reached out, she smacked his hand away, rather like she had Jones'. "Don't you dare touch it!"

He shook the sting out of his hand with a laugh, "What are you going to do about it? My men have their guns on you. I say the word, and you'll never be walking out of this temple."

"I could put a bullet in your brain."

"Of course, my dear. However, I'm tiring of our little game… goodbye, Lara."

The other two retrained their weapons on her, clearly about to shoot as soon as Herman moved further away.

"Why don't you pick on someone your own size?"

The two gunmen spun towards the mocking demand and Indy seemed to come out of nowhere as he decked one in the face, knocking him out cold while casting a quick grin in Lara's direction, "You owe me one, sweetheart."

The other quickly overcame his shock and swung his shotgun in Indy's direction, but he was too close in to shoot, so the mercenary reversed it and slammed the butt of the weapon into Indiana's temple, sending him reeling back against a column, stunned.

Indy shook off his shock, but the few seconds had been more than enough time for the hired muscle to train the shotgun on him and he found himself staring up the double barrels.

"Don't move."

Lara, oblivious to her accidental ally's plight, was instead moving to get Herman away from the statue, but she was just a few steps too far. She didn't hesitate, snapping out her pistols and firing before they even got high enough to cause true damage, sending a bullet through Herman's outstretched hand.

He screamed in pain and hit his knees, clutching the wounded appendage to his chest and glaring up at her with hate-filled eyes. "You'll pay for this."

"I doubt that," Lara had both pistols trained on him, a grim smile on her lips.

Herman smirked a bit and glanced to the side where Jones was down, blood trickling from a thin gash on his temple and at the mercy of the man standing over him with a shotgun pointed at his head.

"Choose… are you going to let your friend die for a piece of gold?"

Lara followed his gaze, feeling a twinge of fear when she saw Indiana Jones lying there, half-dazed and soon-to-be dead for real. "He's not my friend."

Herman's smirk broadened just a bit, "Sure."

A shot rang out and Indy's breath froze in his chest, but then he realized it hadn't been the roaring crack of a shotgun he'd heard—rather a repeat of the sharper sound of Lara's pistol. He glanced up in time to see the shotgun fall from limp hands, clattering sharply against stone before the soft thud of the body followed.

Lara stood on the dais near the statue's pedestal. "Now we're even."

Indy let out the breath he'd forgotten he was holding, "Thanks. That was close. Hey, where's Herman?"

"The bastard got away."

Right about then Indy registered that the pedestal was empty. "He took it. If you'd just let me get it before…"

Lara glared, "You," she bit out, still ticked at having been used as Herman's guide dog again, not to mention with letting him get away for some near-stranger's sake, "are unbelievable."

* * *

**_Cairo Library, several hours later:_**

The library was huge and well organized. There were shelves upon shelves of books and several long central tables. Due to the hour, there were only a few people still about, some looking over documents while others only checked out a book or two.

A young librarian was replacing the last of the returned books to the shelves as she observed a strange couple. The two were about as different as it was possible for people to be, the woman wearing black leather and cloth tight against her skin and moving with the assured grace of a gymnast or trained martial artist. The man… he wore scruffy, slightly outdated clothes that were better suited to the desert than the woman's, soft shades of tan and darker brown with a hat placed on the table next to him. If that weren't enough, he had a large bruise across his left temple with a thin scratch near his hairline.

They were speaking together in quiet English, apparently of trivial things from the words the librarian could make out. She could speak English, but the two were talking a little faster than she could easily follow, not to mention in low voices. The main languages heard in the library were Arabic and French.

Even more oddly, despite their radically different styles and less-than-professional choice of topic, they seemed to be very professional in whatever it was they were looking for. They had chosen a few of the old texts, ones that had not been revised or re-translated in many years, and they were going through them at a pace that the young librarian was privately amazed at.

She was a little sorry to have to send them away—they were the most interesting people to have come to the library in quite some time—but she approached the two after sliding the last book into its proper place.

She jumped a bit at the 'thud' as the woman snapped a book shut with a small puff of dust, "I give up. We've looked through them all and there's nothing!"

The librarian decided to speak to the man at the sharp irritation in the woman's voice, even though she hadn't been able to understand what had been said. "Pardon me, sir, but the library is closing soon."

He blinked up at her, then glanced at his watch and whistled softly, "Wow. Right, sorry, we lost track of time. We'll leave so you can close up," he shut his book gently and stood, moving around the table to pick up the books the woman had started to pile. "Listen, I'm going to return everything. You go start the car, Ok?"

The woman wasn't given a chance to respond as the man moved back around the table to add his own books to the pile. "Ah, where would you like me to put these?"

The librarian smiled. He seemed like a nice man, even if he was an American with a large bruise. She lifted about a third of the texts from his arms, noticing he staggered a bit under the weight—not that she blamed him. That was quite the pile. "On my cart, please, she said, leading him over to the rolling cart she used to shelve the books.

"You are interested in Egyptian mythology?" she asked as she watched him awkwardly set the books down, trying to keep the pile from toppling.

"Yeah, sure am," he smiled, and it gave lie to the dangerous appearance caused by the head injury.

"You found everything here?" the librarian asked.

The smile faded into a look of disappointment, "I'm afraid not."

The librarian was surprised.

"Oh. Well, I'm looking for an ancient legend…" he went on to explain politely what it was they had failed to find.

"Well, we do have one book about that legend," the librarian said thoughtfully, "but it is in the archive of texts to be translated and returned to the museum and is not available." But those hazel eyes had looked so hopeful when she had mentioned the book, and so disappointed to hear it wasn't ready…

* * *

Lara, already irritated with the lack of success, was even more irritated at being ordered around. "Nobody tells me what to do," she muttered to herself as she made her way out to the car. She would have taken it up with Jones in the library, but making a scene wasn't big on her agenda of things to do.

She climbed into the driver's seat and slid the key into the ignition, but didn't turn it, waiting.

And waiting.

And waiting.

"Where is that man!?" she demanded of no one, tapping the steering wheel impatiently before spotting him exiting the library.

The instant he got in the car she sent him a vicious glare, "What took you so long?"

He held up his hands in a placating gesture, a carefully wrapped something in one hand, "Easy, there. I got what we were looking for." He unwrapped the edge of the cloth, showing the carefully preserved papyrus pages.

"Translation pending!?" she asked, seeing the mark on the cloth. "How did you _get_ that?"

He flashed a teasing grin, "I'm a very charming man."

Lara rolled her eyes and started the engine.

Unnoticed by either of the car's occupants, a tall man slipped out of the library as they started to pull out of the lot, taking a cell phone out of his pocket.

"I found them."

**To be continued...**

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_()Atef_ or _Atef_ crown: it is the crown of Osiris, similar in shape to the _Hedjet_ crown. ( White Crown of Upper Egypt)

Any review? It's free!! Hahaha :D


	3. Investigations

**Chapter 3: Investigations**

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Lara turned off the engine after parking in front of a small building. It wasn't a five-star hotel, but it would do, and it was less conspicuous than one of the places she might have preferred to stay.

In other words, it was just what they needed.

She got out of the car, slinging her light pack over her shoulder almost absently, and made her way to the motel office, not bothering to see if Jones was following.

"Hey!" he caught up and settled into a slightly disgruntled walk beside her, catching on to her pensive mood and prudently keeping quiet.

"Excuse me… Hello?" Laura called, glancing around the empty office.

"A moment, a moment," a tired voice answered and an old woman slowly made her way from a back room into the office. "We close," she explained in broken English, "No time."

"Yeah, I don't have a whole lot of time, either," Lara snapped. She was tired, she was grumpy, and all she wanted was a place to shower and sleep, and the order didn't matter.

Indy rolled his eyes. _Come on, Croft. Not the way to work._ "Excuse her," he smoothly cut in front of the irritable relic hunter. "She's just tired. We just need a room, and we'll pay for it. Please?"

The old woman gave a little smile at his pleading expression, "Yes, yes, your name?"

"Right, I'm In… d'oh," giving his real name might not be such a good idea. Not with the Nazi's after him. He'd forgotten that in this time, he'd been dead for sixty years—and dead archaeologists weren't something a whole lot of people outside the realm of academia bothered to remember.

Lara elbowed him, "His name is Inni D'oh, and I'm Laura Smith."

Indy glared. _Inni?_ That sounded a bit too girly for him.

"Which name do you want the room under?" the old woman asked.

"We would like two rooms," Lara amended Indy's earlier request. "One for each of us."

The woman nodded, "Of course," they did seem more like colleges than family, and she somehow couldn't picture the two as lovers. "Here are your keys. You may pay in the morning, if you wish."

Lara nodded thanks while Indy was slightly more vocal with his gratitude, then the two made their way outside to search out their rooms—side-by-side, the room numbers were seven and eight.

"Two, eh?" Indy teased.

"Of course, Mr. _D'oh_."

Indy sulked.

* * *

Meanwhile, in a nearby bar…

Herman was refilling his glass of whiskey for the third time. It was a distraction, and dulled the pain in his hand. It had _not_ been a good day, though he had accomplished his mission and was due certain payment from his boss. He glanced up as the door opened, more for something to do than actual curiosity, then blinked and looked again.

A young man, perhaps mid-twenties from the look of him, made his way into the bar. He was clearly European; tall, blond hair, pale skin. Herman guessed his eyes would be blue or light gray, but sunglasses kept it at that: a guess. What really got the mercenary's attention, though, was the large white wolf following him.

The fact that the animal was a northern breed was strange enough, as Egypt did not tend to be easy on heavy-furred beasts built for cooler weather, but everything about it indicated that it was _not_ tame. It carried itself like a wild alpha, its eyes full of wary pride, and yet it followed the young man almost meekly.

The man sat down next to Herman and the wolf lay quietly behind his stool.

"I hope you have it," he stated, his words tinted with a British accent.

Herman shot the man a slightly offended glare, "Of course I have it, Erwin. It was a perfect setup, having Lady Croft do our work."

"Did you follow my instructions? Did the statue remain untouched?"

"Yes. Croft was nowhere near it when we got there."

"Good," slight satisfaction leaked into the otherwise even voice, "Now all we have to do is find the others."

"How will we know where to look?" Herman wasn't sure where the map he had 'given' to Croft had come from, but without something else similar—unlikely—finding the other statues would be like looking for a raw diamond in a pile of broken quartz.

"That is none of your concern. Give me the statue."

Herman did not like all the secrecy. He had met the intimidating young man some weeks before, and offered to pay _very_ well for a certain statue, with more to come should Herman continue working for him in search of more, similar statues. He was rich and he paid.

To a mercenary, that was reason enough to work for him, but his orders were odd. Why not touch the statue with bare hands? What could possibly happen? How did he get the map and, more importantly, how did he know where the others would be found? And, most importantly of all, why did he want them? Sure, they were gold, but the man was rich. He wasn't in it for the money, and he didn't have the air of a collector.

"Herman?" the slightly sharp tone cut through the mercenary's private musings.

"Right, fine." Herman lifted the heavy canvas bag at his side, inside which the statue lay, wrapped in thick fabric.

The younger man lifted the bag onto his lap and opened it, then tugged aside a corner of the protecting cloth.

The statue's face was unmistakable; a perfect representation of the Ancient Egyptian God of the Nile.

"Osiris… so I have you at last," he subtly covered the gold again and set the precious bag beside his seat, near the quiet wolf. "What happened with Croft?" he asked, smiling over the statue as he nodded towards Herman's bandaged hand.

"…" Herman hesitated, "Well…"

Erwin glanced at him sharply, the smile taking on a brittle edge. "What. Happened?"

"She… she got away," Herman grimaced, "We thought she was alone, but then that guy came…"

The smile vanished. "What 'guy'?"

* * *

A hot shower had been exactly what he'd needed. The last few days had been… stressful. What with Nazis, angry mercenaries, jumping off cliffs, oh, and let's not forget _time travel._ Indy left the bathroom half-dressed, barefoot, and scrubbing a towel over his hair—then stopped, blinking, and suddenly _very_ glad he'd bothered to pull on pants before exiting the little room.

Lara was at the table in his room with the book.

"Did you find something?"

She glanced up and gave him an absent smile, "Nothing interesting. Have a nice shower?"

"Great, yeah. I needed one," he grimaced, remembering the tiny cell he'd been in before his journey over the cliff. "Hey, if you're tired, I can take over translating."

"Hm? Oh, no, I'm fine," Lara frowned at ancient text, trying to remember what a particular word translated to.

Indy shrugged, "Ok, well, I'm going to make some coffee."

"Hold it!"

Indiana jumped, then scowled, "What!? Am I allowed to do _anything?_ First it's 'don't touch', then it's 'don't talk'—can't I even make my own coffee?"

"Shut up and look at this. I didn't think it was anything important—everyone in the field has heard the story of Seth killing Osiris and Isis and Anubis bringing him back—but there was more here…"

"Come again?" Indy walked over to look at the page she was glaring at.

"Here, look," Lara pointed at the section she was translating, "Right there, after Seth cut Osiris' body to pieces in a fit of gleeful rage and scattered the pieces throughout the lands. 'And the goddess Isis prevailed and found her lost lover. With the aid of Anubis, Osiris was reassembled, embalmed, and wrapped in clean linen. He was magically restored to life, and, _with the aid of the three divine golden gods…_"

"Golden gods as in… statues?"

"I'm not sure," Lara shook her head, "The rest is missing."

Indy looked closer at the edge of the papyrus page. "That looks deliberate—someone cut out the rest!"

* * *

Erwin's orders had been simple. Herman was to take his men track down Lara Croft and her companion and find out anything and everything they knew. That done, he returned to his own rooms to examine his first prize.

He turned the statue over in gloved hands, running a critical gaze over the base. It had to be there… ah. Erwin pulled a knife out of his pocket and flipped it open, carefully working the tip into an almost invisible crack in the gold, prying gently.

A small rectangular panel popped loose and he set the knife and statue aside, flipping the plate over. He smirked in satisfaction as he read the hieroglyphs etched into soft metal.

A sharp knock interrupted his reverie and the white wolf's bristling fur and silently bared teeth caught his attention. He stroked the animal's head, soothing it as he set the piece of gold on the table. "Enter."

Herman came in, closing the door behind him and sparing a glance for the statue lying on its side, gleaming against dark wood.

"The document you requested wasn't at the library. Croft and her friend have it."

"How did they… never mind. It matters not," Erwin resumed petting the wolf's head, "Now we can simply take it from them without having to worry about pesky details like library security. I assume you have located them?"

Herman nodded, "Right, they checked into a hotel near the bar under false names."

Erwin smiled, an oddly chilling expression, "Good. Bring me the documents and find out who Lady Croft's little attack dog is."

Herman nodded, "All right. I've got a man who specializes in such… _business._"

"Perfect. Get ready to leave. We leave for Alexandria tomorrow."

Herman almost gaped, "Are we doing some kind of tourist route?" he asked, a trace of sarcasm in his voice.

"Don't be stupid," chill blue eyes flashed irritably and Erwin gestured sharply, a clear dismissal that the wolf backed up with a soft growl.

The European returned his attention to the golden message as Herman left.

_-Search for the Eternal Fire of Ra-_

* * *

_**To be continued…**_

Thank you, everybody for reading. I know this doesn't seem very Indy oriented, but it's coming… btw… reviews are appreciated, so let me Know! :D

And, of course, thanks again to Shadewolf7 ;)

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**Additional author's note**:_ () The legend of Osiris' death varies upon translation and location, but they all agree on the main points of Seth, god of Chaos (which the Egyptians saw as evil) tricking his brother Osiris, god of the fields and the Nile, into getting into a chest (read 'coffin') and throwing it into the river, where Osiris died and floated away. His sister/wife (both—gods apparently don't have to worry about inbreeding) Isis brought him back to Egypt for either resurrection or burial, depending on what version you're reading, and Seth found the chest with Osiris' body while Isis was going to get her son, Horus. He cut his brother's body to pieces and scattered them throughout the lands._

_Isis, undeterred at the setback, sought out the pieces. She either reassembled him or gave each piece a proper burial where she found it, depending, again, on which version you are listening to. Some say that she enlisted the aid of Anubis, god of death (Egyptian version of the Grim Reaper), to reassemble her husband and bring him back to life. As Osiris had died, he could no longer rule over the lands of the living, and so was made ruler of the lands of the dead, though he did still get to be the god of the Nile._


	4. First Assault

**Chapter 4: First Assault**

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"Why would what's-his-name—Herman—want the statue anyway? Do you think he knows the legend?" Indy flipped his hat over and over in his hands, the only visible sign of his nervousness.

Lara snorted, "Herman? I doubt it. The man only knows about money. He's probably looking to sell it to the highest bidder."

"If he does that, we'll never see it again!"

"I know. But we're too tired to do anything tonight," Lara sighed and stood, stretching in a fashion that made Jones wince, much to her private amusement. "Let's get some sleep and work out a plan in the morning."

"Leaving so soon?" Indy teased, also standing and plopping his hat back on his head out of pure habit.

"Why? You scared?" Lara shot back.

"Yeah. I'm _terrified_ of the dark," Indy let a tint of sarcasm leak into his voice.

Lara rolled her eyes. "Very funny. If you actually _need_ something, I'm in the next room."

* * *

The old woman was organizing the papers on her desk when she realized she had forgotten to lock the front door. She turned to grab her keys and saw motion out of the corner of her eye.

She spun, looking around the office and down the narrow hall, then dismissed it when there was nothing there. She locked the door and returned to the desk to lock the drawers before going to bed herself.

* * *

Lara hadn't been kidding about being too tired to come up with a working plan. It had been a _long_ day, and she knew her limits. She moved to open the door to her room when she thought she heard something.

Lara Croft was more than merely accustomed to taking care of herself. Still, something had her feeling uneasy and she turned, "Hello? Jones, is that you? Jones?"

There was no response and Lara didn't think the man was up to playing practical jokes, so she went into her room to get ready for bed, trying to dismiss the lingering disquiet as her imagination.

* * *

A dark figure silently picked the lock and slipped into the room, closing the door behind himself with barely a whisper of shifted air, glancing around in a quick search for his quarry.

The room's occupant was asleep, a wrapped parcel on the table across from the bed which matched the description of the manuscript he had been sent for, a satchel hung over the chair back in front of it.

How convenient.

He slid across the room as softly as the shadow he resembled, gently picking up the wrapped pages and slipping them into the bag from the chair to his own shoulder.

A soft metallic click broke the silence like a thunderbolt and the man slowly turned around, knowing what he would find.

"I think you got the wrong room, pal," the voice behind the old-style revolver informed.

So, the room's occupant _hadn't_ been asleep. The man was good.

The intruder smirked, expression hidden in the darkness. So Croft's little body-guard had a few tricks. Still, he was within easy range…

An arcing crescent kick sent the revolver spinning across the room, the gun going off a nearly unbearable explosion of sound in the enclosed space and the thief followed up with a punch that had Indy reeling.

Indiana Jones was no amateur, but his skills lay more in brawling than martial arts—he tackled the thief, managing to send the satchel halfway beneath the bed and engaging him in something between a catfight and a wrestling match.

Then the thief twisted in a way that most men would have found impossible (and even Lara would have been grudgingly impressed at) and kneed Indy in the diaphragm, knocking him aside, unable to breathe.

The man snatched the handle of the satchel and scrambled for the door, all attempts at silence abandoned in favor of speed, when a hand caught his ankle, sending him sprawling.

"Jones!" the door slammed open, revealing Lara in pajamas, holding twin pistols on the room at large, "What the hell is going on in here?"

She could see the two on the floor, but the sudden change from the semi-lighted hall to the near-complete darkness broken only by street-light filtering in through the window made it impossible to see more than outlines. Lara didn't dare shoot, in case she was shooting at the wrong person.

One of the figures jackknifed, wrenching free of the grasp on his ankle, then rolled to the side and snatched something up off the floor. Lara hesitated a second too long and the person bolted, throwing up an arm to shield his face as he leapt through the window, shattering glass splashing out across the sidewalk.

Lara got to the window just in time to see the figure darting around a corner, but she couldn't follow—Jones' breath was coming in harsh, barely-there wheezes.

"Jones? You all right?"

She saw him nod and gesture at the lights, and Lara felt like an idiot for not having thought of that when she'd first burst in.

By the time she had flipped the switch, Jones' breath came easier.

"He just knocked the wind out of me," the tone was a bit strained, but he didn't sound too bad.

After another few seconds in which Jones examined the room, he swore. "He got it! Damn—and I let him get away!"

"Got what?" Lara shifted, brushing the hair away from her eyes with the back of one hand, which looked kind of odd, considering the pistols she still held. All in all, she was a strange sight, wearing nondescript grey flannel pajamas, barefoot, her hair a mess, and carrying two custom weapons.

"The manuscript—and my lucky satchel!"

Lara frowned, "Do you have something important in it?"

Indy sighed, "I guess not, just some tools, but… I'll miss it."

The relic hunter dropped down onto the bed with a slight grimace, "Well, so much for waiting for tomorrow. We just ran out of time."

Indy glanced at her, "What's the plan?"

* * *

The thief arrived in the square where a car waited for him and climbed in.

"Did they follow you?" Herman asked from the other seat as the man settled himself and the driver pulled out of the square.

"No."

"And you have it?"

The man opened the bag and showed him the wrapped pages with a vaguely insulted look.

"Good… and who is the guard-dog?"

The thief grimaced a bit, rubbing surreptitiously at the side of his chest, where his opponent had managed to land a hard blow, "Our… chat wasn't very enlightening and was cut rather short. This is his bag, though, maybe his ID is inside."

Herman gestured to the bag and the thief handed it over. He opened it and laughed, "A whip? Who is this guy—a lion tamer?"

Aside from the most obvious item, there were also some old-fashioned archaeology tools, a small notebook, and an envelope. He set the whip aside and opened the notebook—there was quite a bit of writing, a few quick sketches—items, a map without much detail, that sort of thing—all apparently on an excavation site somewhere. He closed it and moved on to the envelope.

A telegram?

**_From Marcus Brody to Indiana Jones (09/13/1940)_**

_The museum can't defray the Project STOP You must leave immediately STOP Van Helgen is on your heels STOP Hurry and be very careful STOP_

According to the date it's pretty old, but the paper looks brand-new," the thief observed.

The car stopped and Herman quickly slid everything but the notebook and telegram back into the bag. "Go set up transportation to Alexandria. I'm going to give this to Erwin."

The man nodded and left the vehicle and Herman turned his attention back to the items in his hands, then carefully pulled out and unwrapped the papyrus pages. There were notes slipped in between the frail sheets, written on clean paper. The handwriting matched in the notebook and the notes in with the papyrus.

He frowned, glaring at the pages, then glanced back at the telegram and frowned. There was a scribbled note on the bottom, signed 'Jones', and the handwriting matched the other two items.

"It can't be…"

* * *

Indy and Lara left the motel for a small twenty-four hour café, now unable to sleep the night.

"Do you think he'll come?" Jones asked, sounding a little uneasy.

"Of course he'll come, he owes me." Lara glanced over at Jones and noticed how he was looking at some of the things—the TV on in the corner of the ceiling, the espresso machine, etc.—and realized that these thing either hadn't been invented or hadn't been brought up to this level of efficiency in the nineteen forties. The cars were probably a bit of a shocker, too. "Listen, Jones… wait for me here, OK?"

Indy met her gaze briefly, "Don't be late."

* * *

The black-clad woman stopped near a table with a single, weary-looking occupant. He was a young man, dark-haired and dark-eyed. He wore jeans and a casual blue shirt.

Lara sat down across from him. "You're late, James."

"I got here as fast as I could," he defended. "I'm not used to calls in the middle of the night you know."

Lara sighed, "I'm sorry, but this is important."

James managed a smile, "Must be, to have _you_ so worked up."

"It involves Herman."

The man's head jerked up, "What!? Lara, are you out of your mind!? That man is dangerous! You shouldn't get involved with his business."

Lara grimaced, "_He's_ getting involved with _my_ business."

"Lara, listen to me. Whatever it is, it's not worth the kind of trouble he brings."

"There's more than just a relic involved, James. You see that man at the bar?"

James twisted to look, "The one with the hat?"

"Yeah."

"What about him?"

"That's where this gets complicated…"

* * *

Erwin observed the devious curves of the bullwhip in his hands, wondering. Why would a man carry such a thing?

"We also found a telegram, but there seems to be a mistake with the date. It says 1940."

The blond man tensed, anger suddenly radiating from every line of his body. "That means you failed!"

"What?" Herman was confused, not to mention more than a little scared. Maybe he shouldn't have mentioned the telegram… dealing with Erwin in a bad mood was a dangerous game.

"You _idiot!_ Croft touched the statue—this changes _everything!_"

"But what difference does it make if she touched an old hunk of Egyptian gold?"

Erwin turned to look at the mercenary, no longer seeming angry. Instead he seemed almost… disappointed. "Do you not believe me?" Despite the mildness of words and tone, there was something downright menacing in the way he spoke.

"No! I mean…" Herman inched back as the wolf stood, its silent bristle somehow more alarming than a snarl would have been, "I just don't understand, that's all. Of course I believe you."

"Good. You don't need to understand. But now we can no longer delay; we leave Cairo now."

Herman gave a quick nod and left as quickly as he could without seeming to run.

Erwin turned his attention back to the whip, then glanced at his wolf. "It's been a long time, hasn't it, Ragnar?"

The animal growled in reply.

* * *

"So, can you help us find Herman or not?" Lara asked.

"Not sure," the young man frowned slightly, then sighed. "Earlier, one of my friends said he was headed for the port."

"The port, eh? So he's leaving Cairo…"

Jones finally spoke from his place at the other side of the table, having been brought over after Lara had gotten James' reluctant agreement to help.

"Don't sound so happy, sweetheart. We still don't know where he's going."

Indy shrugged at Lara's glare, mouthing 'habit'.

"Maybe I can help, there," James offered, ignoring the byplay, "I've got some friends working at the port."

"That's great! What're we waiting for?"

"Nothing—I've got my car, let's go."

"James, you're a darling," Lara favored the young man with a smile.

_Cairo Port, an hour later:_

James turned off the car and parked in an unlighted corner. "All right, wait for me here. I'm going to go see what I can find out."

Lara nodded, then turned to Indy when their impromptu guide left the car. "Jones, will you _relax?_ You look like you're waiting for your execution or something."

Indy shook his head, "I've just got a bad feeling about this. It's too easy."

* * *

Erwin answered his phone as soon as it buzzed in his pocket, then he gave a half-nod with a smirk. "Perfect. Leave a trace. We'll take care of them when they reach Alexandria."

* * *

"What's taking him so long?" Indiana shifted uneasily.

"He's always slow," Lara informed, then her attention snapped to a man who had just passed under a light, leaving the port's main building, "Jones! Look!"

"Is that the guy who stole the manuscript?"

"It could be, come on!"

Indy stopped Lara before she could open the door, "Not so fast, sweetheart—sorry," he apologized for the nickname.

Lara swatted his hand off her arm on principal, then glared, "Why?"

"First, we didn't exactly get a clear look, and if we're wrong, this could turn… interesting. Second, if that _is_ the guy, and we go for him and he gets away again, old Hermie will know we're here and then the surprise factor—which is our _only_ advantage—will go straight out the window."

Lara sat back, biting her lip pensively. "All right, you have a point. And I guess it doesn't look like he's got the satchel on him, anyway, so it wouldn't help much even if we did catch him."

"Mm," Indy mumbled noncommittally, "Hey, look—James."

The man jogged to the car and climbed into the driver's seat, a bit out of breath. "Alexandria. They're headed to Alexandria. I've got three tickets for the same boat."

"Three?" Indy asked.

"I'm going with you. Lara knows what she's up against and from what I've heard, you're pretty good, but you're still outnumbered and I've got contacts in the city. Besides, you need someone with a healthy dose of caution along."

Lara glared, but the expression held no heat and soon melted into a smile, "Great, thanks, James."

"Well, I do owe you. After this, I think I'll call us even… there's only one little problem. The boat's supposed to leave tomorrow, but they're casting off in less than an hour."

Indy gave a slightly predatory grin, "Good," he pulled his hat low over his eyes, "I hate waiting."

**To be continued…**

_**Beta's Note**: The fact that this is so late is completely my fault. Sorry everyone! Anyway, I promise to work faster next time Ravenwood sends me a chapter._

_--Shadewolf7_

_**Author's note**: Yeah, and I'll try to write faster, but… hey you! Yes, you … Your Review could help a lot too. :D_


	5. Nightmares

I'm sorry for the long delay, but we're back after all… and thank you for the reviews, they're great! I hope you'll enjoy this chapter too and…thank Shadewolf7 a lot for beta-reading it! :)

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**Chapter 5: Nightmares**

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The boat set sail silently in the dead of night, no sound other than the soft slap of ripples against the hull breaking the quiet. A bell rang in the distance, unnaturally loud in the darkness, gonging four times before fading back into the deathly silence.

There had been no sign of Herman or his people, though that was just as well. Meeting him too soon would ruin everything. They had managed to procure two cabins with an interconnecting door, one with a bunk and the other with a single bed made up, the top bunk still locked up against the wall.

James insisted he needed the single, claiming to be a sleepwalker. Neither Indy or Lara believed him, but it just wasn't worth the fight when they were so tired. Lara left the room to talk with James for a few minutes and Indy noticed a scroll case sticking precariously out of the relic hunter's backpack.

Curious, he plucked it free and climbed up to the top bunk, working the cap off and dropping the delacate papyrus into his hand. A map… the map which showed where the first statue had been found. A very _familiar_ map.

"It can't be…"

Lara's voice nearing the connecting door caught his attention and he quickly slid the scroll back into the case and capped it, twisting to try and replace it in her backpack before she could come through. He wasn't quite sure _why_ he was so scared of being caught, as the worst she could do was lecture, but the fact remained that he couldn't quite reach from the top bunk without moving further than the ceiling and narrow ship's bunk would allow.

"Oh, come on," he muttered, straining just a little further and managing to get the end of the case back into the pack when the key scraping in the lock startled him much more than it should have and he jerked back onto his bunk sharply, banging his head and having to hunch forward in a very awkward position.

Lara was quite surprised to find him in such a position, the only things keeping her from thinking something less than flattering about him being that he was both fully clothed and rubbing the side of his head, grimacing.

Still, the chance was just too good to pass up. "Jones! What the hell are you doing?"

He jumped in surprise, banged his head for what was apparently the second time, and managed to fall off the bed entirely, hitting the floor with a resounding thud.

Oops. Maybe she should have let the chance pass… "Are you OK?"

He glared up at her from the floor for a moment before shoving himself to his feet, hand back at the side of his head… "Ooww… fine," he muttered, climbing back up to his bed and keeping a wary eye on the ceiling, as though he expected it to jump down and whack him again. "And I hit my head, what do you _think_ I was doing?"

Lara rolled her eyes, knowing that someone form the fourties probably didn't get the connotations, but unable to resist, seeing as how the man was only bruised. "Oh for… I didn't know you were one of _those_ guys…"

"What guys?"

Lara didn't answer, taking off her light jacket and hanging it on the hook on the back of the door before sitting on her bed, watching out for the metal frame of the top bunk.

"Come on, Lara, what are you thinking?"

Lara flicked off the lights and lay down, smirking, "Good night, Jones."

"… You didn't answer me…"

"You wouldn't get it, old man. Too far behind the times."

She heard him huff and roll over, but he didn't dispute her claim and fell asleep quickly, judging by how his breathing evened out.

She felt a little bad about the last comment, realizing it had to be difficult to be yanked out of one's time period, and decided to apologize in the morning before settling down to sleep herself.

* * *

_**Germany: September 14, 1940**_

___Rain whipped down in stinging sheets, driven by icy wind into the faces of a man and a boy struggling through the meager protection offered by scattered trees. Despite the conditions and the fact that more than one of the ancient trunks would have granted sanctuary from wind and rain alike, the pair pressed on._

___The sharp bay of a hunting hound sounded from behind, nearer than it had been the last time it had broken past the moaning rattle of the wind through the trees. Lightning lit the sparse forest—their cover was running out._

___Thunder crashed, nearly disguising the sharp crack of a rifle—the bullet hissed by, snapping against weathered bark._

___Another flash of white revealed a ruin past that expanse of open ground—if only they could reach it alive, it would provide some cover._

___The smaller of the pair stumbled, slowed._

_"__Don't you stop, Tom!" the elder's voice cracked with angry fear._

_"__I hope you pass me with honors for this, Professor," the young man panted, forcing himself into a staggering run._

_"__Hey, if we survive this, I'll pay your way through grad school!" Dr. Jones flashed a grin, unseen in the gray dimness of the storm._

___The hound bayed again, uncertainly, then it's voice rose with the easy confidence of an old champion sure of the trail._

___Gunfire echoed from the edge of the forest as the two fled over the open ground._

___The younger gave a short cry and fell._

___Jones turned back, "Kid! You all right?"_

___Tom waved off his teacher's concern, scrambling up, "Tripped, let's go!"_

___Within less than a minute, the archaeologist was forcing open the water-swelled wood of the door and herding his student inside ahead of himself before turning to yank the protesting oak closed again, slamming the ancient bolt home to lock the door, then searching for the piece of wood that should be a crossbar and dropping it into place with a sastisfying thud._

_"__That should keep them busy for a while," Indy stated, somewhat satisfied that they had bought more time as he turned._

_"__Professor…"_

___The boy was pale and shaking, swaying on his feet—it was probablyjust shock and cold, maybe exaustion, but Indy feared something more._

_"__Tom? Tom!" he lunged to catch his student as he crumpled and felt warm, sticky wetness against his palm at the kid's side. He eased the boy to the cold stone floor, pulling his hand back and already knowing what he would see._

___Blood, a black, angry smear in the darkness._

___The fall—Tom hadn't tripped, he'd been shot, saying he'd tripped to divert attention long enough for them to reach relative safety. Looking out for his teacher…_

___A quiet sound escaped the professor's throat, a choked of sob, and he checked his student's vitals with trembling hands. Even as he found it, the fluttering pulse beneath his fingers stilled._

___Indy bowed his head, a tear slipping unnoticed down his cheek. Tom had deserved so much better… he was just a kid! Guilt and grief mingled into a inky mess when shouts and insistent scratching and barking broke through his dark reverie._

___He was on his feet, fists clenched and facing the door before he even realized what he was doing, eyes glittering with a dangerous, half-mad light._

___Reason crept in, echoing in Tom's voice. _'Let's go!'

___Tom had wanted him to get out, to live. He had to keep going… he couldn't let the kid's death be in vain._

___Three steps down the hall, and a stone shivered a bit under his weight—hold it!_

___Indy knelt, working it loose with cautious fingers—a bit of a depression beneath, dried whisps of grass marking it as an old mouse nest, unused in years. Indy slipped a parchment case inside, spreading the remains of the nest over it before setting the stone back in place, stepping down to align it with the others and brushing the fine dirt back into the surrounding cracks to hide the fact he'd removed the stone._

___The door groaned under a sharp impact and Indy fled, praying he wouldn't forget where he'd hidden the damn map that had gotten them into this._

___Only moments after he had melted into the shadows, the half-rotted oak of the door exploded inwards, crossbar and metal bolt clattering across the floor in a hail of splinters. Nazi soldiers poured through the opening, flinging the tattered boards still attached to the hinges back._

___The hound went wild at the overwhelming scent of his prey only to be held back by his handler._

___Only one man showed no sign of wariness or distress. He knew his quarry well—this time the American would not escape. He barked an order in German, sending the soldiers scattering along the hallways, and turned his attention to the body on the floor. "Always 'till the bitter end, Jones," he said to the man he hunted._

___The grating groan of a protesting stone above made him smirk, a barest curve of the corners of his mouth. "There you are," he commented, drawing his Luger as he made his way to the stairs._

___xxxx_

___Rationally, he knew his time was running out, but Indiana Jones couldn't bring himself to just _quit._ Stone though it was, the floor seemed far too loud, and the columns scattered throughout the open room proved to be more a hindrance than anything, blocking clear sightlines. There _had_ to be another exit, but he couldn't see it… wait; there._

___A trap door. Not much, but it was a way out—_

___And something slammed into him, sending him crashing to harsh stone._

_"Van Helgen!"_

___The Nazi was actually made to pause by the pure _hate_ invoked in his name, even more startled by the blind fury in which the American attacked, knocking the Aryan back and down._

___And then he was gone, fleeing towards the belltower._

___Van Helgen cornered him at the top of the tower, letting himself observe the American's face in the next flare of lightning._

___Thunder grumbled even as another flash lit the tower and Van Helgen noticed a strange light glittering in the dark depths of his enemy's eyes. "Don't be a fool, Jones," he worked to make himself sound amused, though the look on Indy's face had unnerved him. "There is no need for you to die as well."_

_"__Tom." It was a whisper of breath, barely audible through the rain, something between a prayer and a curse. And the man lunged, blind rage directing his furious attack._

___Van Helgen hid his astonishment at the sheer strength of the smaller man and found himself grateful that Dr. Jones was suffering from exaustion, hunger, and likely hypothermia—he wouldn't have fared nearly so well had the American been in good health._

___He placed a spinning kick to Jones' abdomen, knocking the wind out of him and sending him sprawling._

___Jones forced himself up defiantly, one arm wrapped protectively around his stomach, facing the Nazi with that strange half-madness still dancing in his eyes._

_"__While I am not surprised at your stubborness, Jones, I will ask you not to make this more difficult than it has been."_

_"__Never been one for the easy way," Jones snarled, launching himself forward again._

___Van Helgen had had enough. He yanked on the bell-rope, hard, sending ancient bronze smashing into the archaeologist._

___Indy slipped, fell—tried to catch himself on the rope, and only succeeded in redirecting his fall to the stairs, which he hit and rolled down until a landing stopped his decsent._

___He realized, once the lack of uncontrolled motion registered, that he could not force his battered body to move. Numbness crept along his limbs, little sparks of tingling hurt flaring here and there. He barely registered the presence above him, patting down his jacket and checking his pockets._

___A growled question made no sense and Indy surrendered to the darkness._

* * *

She opened her eyes and scanned the room, sliding carefully out of the bunk and trying to identify what was wrong. She glanced at the upper bunk, squinting into the deeper shadows, and abruptly realized what had woken her.

Jones was not there.

xxxx

Indy leaned against the railing, staring down at dark waves that were nonetheless brighter than his thoughts. With everything that had been happening, he hadn't had the chance to stop and remember.

Apparently, his brain had decided things had calmed down enough to handle a little reminder in the form of a nightmare that hadn't been a dream the first time around.

A soft click made him turn his head and he found himself meeting the gaze of a huge white wolf.

"Jones?"

The archaeologist twisted a bit to glance at the only person he knew in this time.

"What were you thinking? If Herman had found you—"

"I just needed to be alone for a while," he glanced back to where the wolf had been, only to find it gone.

The relic hunter's gaze turned distinctly concerned.

"I… I think… I need to tell you something."

xxxx

Back in the room, Lara listened with ever growing amazement.

"You found…" she shook her head and ordered her thoughts, "Sixty years ago, you found an Egyptian dig in Germany and none of your people got out to tell anyone?"

"Since you haven't heard of it… yeah. Probably. The only proof we managed to get away with was this map."

"That's incredible. An Egyptian temple in northern Europe! There's nothing I've ever seen, not even rumours, legends, that ever suggested something like that. Even the Roman Empire never reached that far north."

"Mostly Egyptian," Indy corrected. "It was a mix of Egyptian and a Nordic tribe, pre-Vikings, I suppose. But the fact that it was there wasn't the strangest thing."

"I'm almost afraid to ask."

"There was a tomb under the temple—Ancient Egyptian style, pre-pyramids—except the mummy wasn't in a closed sarcophagus, and it was holding the map in its hands."

Lara released a breath, brow furrowing in puzzled thought, "Anything else?"

"The mummy… apart from being embalmed with different materials than I'm used to seeing, you know, probably because of environmental differences…"

Lara stared at the archaeologist. He was babbling, a teltale sign that he was nervous about something.

"Just spit it out, Jones," she ordered.

"It wasn't, well… normal."

"As in…?"

"I don't think it was human."

Lara leaned forward and twisted around to look up at the man on the top bunk, "You're pulling my leg."

Indy shook his head, a shudder wracking his frame.

"Ok, you're not."

"The body—the skeleton seemed to be… deformed, somehow. At first I thought it had been done to scare off any tomb raiders but… I couldn't see how. It just, it seemed so real…"

"Hmm. All right, that aside for the moment, do you think the Vikings knew of the Egyptians?"

"That was the theory, but the Nazi's invalidated my dig liscense when the war started up. They rounded up most of my team, but Tom and I managed to get away. We sort of… stumbed on to the tomb, so they didn't find us until a little later."

"You said this Van Helgen was interested in the map."

"He was. Very interested—I just wish I knew how he found out about it. I had a chance to hide it before he caught up to me…" his eyes strayed to the map Lara had carefully removed from the parchment case.

"But I guess I didn't hide it well enough."

Silence rang with slow pain and Lara knew he hadn't told her everything—what about the other he said had gotten away with him?

"Look at that," Indy's voice was thick with anger and disgust as his hand reached across her field of vision and idicated tiny writing on the papyrus, the slightly acidic ink from sixty years ago having started to dissolve the fragile 'paper'. "He must have gone back and found it in the monastary…"

"Why didn't I notice this before?" Lara wondered aloud, "What does it say? I don't know much German."

"I only know enough to get by," Indy stated dryly, peering at the map she handed to him. "Let's see… 'The triangle of the golden gods will awaken the One through the Path of Ra.' Van Helgen was smarter than I thought, to translate this."

"Ra? Why Ra? He doesn't belong in the Legend of Osiris… this is making less and less sense."

"Hold it," Jones frowned, "Alexandria, right?"

"Yes…"

It clicked.

"The representation of the god in the catacombs! The second statue must be there!"

There was a halfhearted thump at the connecting door before James poked his head in blearily, "What's got you two all worked up? It's only ten…"

The attempted excited explanation was cut off by the loudspeaker crackling to life and making an announcement in Arabic before repeating itself in accented English.

"To all our dear passengers, we will be arriving in the port of Alexandria in thirty minutes. Thank you for travelling with the ferry Queen."

Indy rolled his eyes and muttered something Lara could barely catch.

"Here we go again…"

_********__To be continued… (Reviews? :)  
_

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Beta's note: All right, this time it's not entirely my fault. Ravenwood and I had non-coinciding vacations, which definetly slowed work on both fronts. I'm back for many months, now, so it hopefully will not happen again.


	6. The path of Ra Part I

Hi there! Thanks everybody for your reviews, I'm very grateful for all the support that you give me :) Sooo... here it is a new chapter (at last... :D)

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**The path of Ra: Part I**

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The ruins of Alexandria they were after were a deserted and lonely place, beneath a suburb of the city where the Red Land met the fertile soil of the Nile Valley.

Inside temple ruin, built over in the years following Alexandria's founding. Years of treasure hunters and tomb robbers had left the place nearly empty but for an alter with a statue of Ra too big to move behind it.

Two men and a large wolf entered the chamber, cautiously, bearing flashlights that lit up the falcon-features of Ra in a spooky, heavily shadowed manner.

Herman whistled, "What an ugly bird!"

Erwin spun around, flashlight glaring into the face of the tomb raider, "Watch what you say! Now is not the time to awaken the wrath of the gods."

"Hey!" the mercenary held a hand in front of his eyes, "You don't really believe that, do you?"

The blond glanced down at the statue in his hands before directing his flashlight towards the great stone statue above, "Everybody believes in something," he murmured, "Though few are worthwhile. Come, to the second floor."

Herman followed his employer to the remains of the stairs, then followed as Erwin commanded his wolf to scout ahead. It was careful work, but all three got up the stairs unharmed. "What are you trying to find up here?"

"The next piece of the puzzle," Erwin stated, sounding so self-assured that Herman rolled his eyes.

Why could Erwin never answer without riddles?

The man in question carefully set the base of the statue he carried into a stand behind the giant Ra. A low grinding sound gave way to Ra's left pupil opening and sending a shaft of concentrated desert sunlight down into the main room.

Erwin smirked, "Perfect," he switched off his flashlight and clipped it to his belt, the light from the statue making the hand-helds unnecessary.

Herman was impressed, "How'd they do that?"

"The secrets of the Ancients aren't for you to know," he walked forward, peering down at the main floor.

"Hey, be careful—don't fall." It would be no good if his employer went and got himself killed before paying the rest of his fee.

Herman ended up only being able to follow, a bit sullenly, as the wolf growled at his sharp tone. They went back down to the lower floor, then made their way over to the floor tile that the beam of light centered on.

Erwin dropped to one knee and tapped the tile with a bit of loose stone, nodding in satisfaction at the hollow 'thunk.' He got a bigger piece of broken stonework and smashed it down on the tile, shattering the tile. "There is our path," he informed the mercenary, standing and dusting off his hands.

"I hate ancient tunnels… you never know what you'll _find_ down there."

"Relax and hand me a torch. If there is danger, we will be well warned," Erwin gestured to the wolf.

* * *

"I've never seen so many cars all together… is it always like this?"

Lara glanced at the man in the backseat, "Welcome to the nineties, Jones."

James gave Lara a slightly puzzled look, seemingly about to say something when Lara suddenly hit the horn.

"Hey, green light, genius!"

The Brit smiled at her, "You could let me drive…"

"Uh-huh. Right. No _way_, James. The _last_ time you drove, you crashed us into a semi, totaled the car, and almost hit a pedestrian!"

"Oh, come on, it was an accident! I'll be careful this time!"

"Hey, if he thinks he can do better, give him a shot. We have to get there before our 'friends' do," Indy wanted to get there alive, but reckless driving might be the only way to get there before the next millennium.

He got an irritated look from the lady of the car for his troubles, but Lara did pull over. "If you're with him, fine, but if we die, I'm going to kill you all over again in hell!"

"Whatever you say, sweetheart. Whatever you say."

* * *

Herman lit one of the torches in a wall sconce and glanced around at the walls. It was a small room, hidden from previous raiders, everything untouched by all but time. The room was full of sarcophagi and skeletons, probably of sacrificed servants—a practice that had been frowned upon during the majority of the pharaohs' reigns.

"Herman, come. And watch your step."

Herman glanced at the ground and realized why. Serpents were scattered across the floor, a few small scorpions skittering away from the light.

"Great," he muttered, snatching up the skull of a nearby skeleton as he cautiously entered the room. He glanced at the skull and changed the angle he was holding it at on a whim, "Alas, poor Yorik."

Erwin, meanwhile, had located the sarcophagus he sought and turned back to his mercenary, "You, Shakespeare, put that down and get over here," a light touch on the wolf's shoulder got the animal's undivided attention, "Guard the entrance."

The wolf obeyed and Herman made his way over towards his employer, looking more closely at the skull in his hands. The cranium was deformed, little horn-like protrusions sprouting from the forehead and he suddenly noticed the teeth were oddly sharp, the canines elongated like those of predators.

"What the hell is this?" He dropped the skull and sidestepped, deliberately calming himself. It was probably a ploy to frighten tomb raiders, but it wasn't going to work.

"Did you find something?" he asked as he approached Erwin.

"I believe so. The inscription here says _'Ra will guide your search'._ It must be inside."

"Good," Herman stated, moving to help lever off the heavy top of the sarcophagus, "I don't like this place. The sooner we can get out of here, the better."

* * *

"This is crazy!" Indy shouted, one hand on top of his hat to hold it in place, "Somebody's gonna get killed!"

Lara shot him a glare, "Yeah, well, _I told you so._"

"I thought you were exaggerating!"

James cast a glance over his shoulder, "It's only a short-cut!"

"Look out!"

"There's a bus!"

"Whoops!" James slammed on the brake and wrenched the wheel around, coming to a screeching turn into a side street, leaving black rubber painted on the pavement behind and barely missing a collision.

"That was awesome!" James enthused, glancing back at his passengers—who were in a rather compromising position from the turn. "I don't mean to interrupt you two, but we're almost there."

If looks could kill...

* * *

Erwin made sure the next idol was secured safely inside his pack before making his way back topside with Herman and the wolf, meeting the rest of his mercenaries at the entrance. "It is safe for you to enter, though only you three are to wait. The rest of us are leaving Egypt." He pointed to the three best known for marksmanship amongst the non-snipers. "If Lara and her friend show up, kill them... after all, this place is meant to be a tomb... Wait inside the temple, it will provide adequate shelter."

The three picked up their packs and did as they were told, checking their guns as they left.

_**To be continued**_

I know this chapter is very poor... but I promise the next one will be better ;) and... sooner xD


	7. The path of Ra Part II

Here is chapter 7! I hope you like it :D Thank you for reading it, and of course, Thank Shadewolf7 my beta ;)

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The previous chapter's end:

Erwin made sure the next idol was secured safely inside his pack before making his way back topside with Herman and the wolf, meeting the rest of his mercenaries at the entrance. "It is safe for you to enter, though only you three are to wait. The rest of us are leaving Egypt." He pointed to the three best known for marksmanship amongst the non-snipers. "If Lara and her friend show up, kill them... after all, this place is meant to be a tomb... Wait inside the temple, it will provide adequate shelter."

The three picked up their packs and did as they were told, checking their guns as they left.

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**Chapter 7: The Path of Ra (Part II)**

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The temple had remained nearly undisturbed for centuries, but that day all changed. Hurried steps broke the long silence as the three sharpshooters made their way to the second story, finding slowly crumbling support columns to use as cover. They would be invisible from the entrance.

"Think they'll come?" one stage-whispered across to his fellows.

"Oh yeah, they'll come. That Croft woman never gives up."

"Yeah, well, her luck'll run out today," the third snapped, mounting a sight onto his rifle, "Now shut up and keep watch."

_

* * *

  
_

Indy and Lara moved towards the entrance of the temple, noting disturbed sand and dust crossing the ruins. They hoped that the tire tracks aboveground were from tourists, but now it was nearly certain—few entered here, as it had been mostly stripped bare.

Herman had beaten them to the temple—Herman and whoever he was working for this time.

"We're too late," Indy growled, eyes flashing with impotent rage.

"Maybe they missed something," Lara pointed out.

"Good point," Indy made his way into the main room of the temple, immediately zeroing in on the broken tile.

"Think we'll find something down there?" Lara asked, coming up to peer over into the darkness.

"More than up here," Indy rolled his shoulders, "Unless you'd rather wait with Ra," he indicated the giant statue with a smile.

_

* * *

  
_

_Just one more step…_ the sniper thought to himself, signaling that he would take out the man in front to the other two.

His finger tightened on the trigger, a hair's breadth from firing—and Beethoven's Fifth sounded out in nearby, startling him into shooting wild as Croft tackled the man to the ground, twisting to scan the shadows of the second floor balcony where the three were concealed.

She spotted them and rolled behind a column of her own, shouting at the man to do the same.

"Why didn't you turn off your phone, you idiot!?" he snapped at his compatriot, receiving a frightened, embarrassed glance in return.

"Just kill them!" the third ordered.

They opened fire, silenced rifles sending bullets hissing down at the two partially concealed below.

_

* * *

  
_

The bullets cracked into the column that Lara and Indy had taken refuge behind, shattering the previously perfect hieroglyphs into meaningless dust. Indiana glanced sideways and noticed Lara leaning back against the column, both pistols held up to her chest and obviously intending to start shooting back any second.

"They're cover's too good," he hissed, "Shooting at 'em's not going to do anything!"

"You're right," Lara muttered back, tossing him a vicious grin, "Distract them."

"With what? A _joke?"_

"Just do it!"

"Right," Indy muttered, then sprinted out from behind the column, diving for the next one over as the sniper fire converged on him.

A formerly beautiful mural of a pharaoh kneeling before Ra shattered as the bullets hit it. "Hey!" he shouted in protest.

Lara took his distraction to roll out from behind the ruined column, then took off in a crouching run for the stairs, hoping Jones would hold their attention for long enough.

"That was a priceless piece of history, you idiots!" the archaeologist shouted behind her and Lara allowed herself a tight smile. He was doing _just_ fine on distracting them.

_

* * *

  
_

One of the snipers ducked back into his cover to load a new clip into his rifle. "I'm done with this—get them out of there! I'm tired of playing games."

"Then let's liven things up!" Lara hit him with a crescent kick, throwing him onto his back and sending the rifle skidding across the floor with a clatter.

One of the other mercs stepped out from behind his cover, leveling a small pistol in Lara's direction when a bullet caught him in the shoulder, causing him to stumble back with a sharp cry as the gun fell from nerveless fingers. "That's for the mural!" Jones shouted up.

Lara offered a smile but was quickly dissuaded when the sniper came back up, fighting. She blocked and dodged, but was quickly losing ground and the third finally took his attention away from Jones, who shot a few rounds in his direction to keep him distracted a little longer.

Lara Croft had had _enough_. When the sniper moved in for another punch, she dodged forward, inside his guard, and brought a knee up, _hard._ "You brought it on yourself, you know," she informed the man as he tipped over in obvious agony.

And Jones ran out of bullets.

_

* * *

  
_

As soon as the cover fire disappeared, the formerly pinned mercenary turned his attention from Jones to Croft, charging to bodily ram her. Lara was knocked off balance and took a step back in an instinctive attempt to ward off a fall… right into empty air.

Her flailing grab managed to save her from an unpleasant landing below, but her grip was tenacious at best and the mercenary smiled. "What a… _difficult_ situation you seem to be in, Miss Croft…"

He moved forward and ground his heel onto her fingers and she bit back a scream, gritting her teeth and resolving not to give him the satisfaction, no matter what.

"Yeah, well, your 'situation' will be even _worse!_"

Lara had never been quite so glad to hear her temporary partner's voice.

A moment later, the mercenary that had forced her over the edge fell past her, screaming. A crack and a thud from below announced his arrival at the first floor and Lara let herself turn her attention back to her now-failing grip.

"Jones!"

"Lara!" Indy heard the shout and lunged for the edge, noting the purplish-red bruising already visible across one of the woman's hands, knowing that there was no way she could hold on much longer.

He reached—and was brought up short by a sharp jerk on the back of his shirt as the third sniper, the one he'd forgotten, stepped in. Indy didn't have time to react before he was sent sprawling by a vicious backhand across his face, sending him staggering back against the wall. His head banged back, dazing him slightly, and a follow-up punch to the jaw sent him sprawling.

"Ready to die?" the mercenary sneered, leveling a pistol.

"Uh… not today!" Indy lashed out with a foot, knocking the other man down and sending the pistol clattering across the floor.

"Jones, hurry it up!" Lara's voice sounded distinctly strained.

The archaeologist started to stand but the mercenary was not out yet and grabbed him by the throat.

Indy tried to pry the hands off his throat, but the mercenary was just too strong, so he flailed for the gun instead, only to find it just out of reach.

He scrabbled for something—_anything_—to use to get that iron grip off his throat and his hand slipped down into a crack near the wall. His fingers found something slightly curved and hard.

_I'm going to hate myself for this,_ he observed silently as he grabbed the equivalent of a decorative plate and lifted it out of the crack where it had lain, forgotten… and smashed it over the mercenary's head, _hard._

And sucked in a rasping gasp of air as the man keeled over, unconscious.

"Jones!"

He made his way to his knees and threw himself down on his belly to reach over the edge, wrapping both hands around one of Lara's wrists just as she lost her grip with her other hand. After several moments, he lifted as much as he could, allowing her to grab the edge again and help him pull her to safety.

Then he rolled onto his back and focused on breathing, getting the last of the black spots to fade out of his vision. "That was close," he observed.

"Too close," Lara agreed. "We'll have to be more careful-"

Beethoven's Fifth rang out again.

"What _is_ that?"

"A cell phone," Lara replied as she found the object and plucked it off the unconscious would-be sniper.

"Hm. It's Herman… he doesn't know your voice, does he?" She offered Indy the phone.

He raised an eyebrow, but accepted it. "Yes?"

"_Are they dead?"_ The voice over the line made Indy bristle, but he kept his voice smooth, if slightly insulted.

"Of course."

"_Good. Take the next plane to Norway."_

"Norway. Got it. By the way… regards from Miss. Croft."

"_What?"_ Then Herman seemed to make the connection. _"You!"_

"Yes, from me, too, and—Hey!" He turned to Lara with a comical pout, "He hung up on me."

Lara shook her head, smiling a bit, "How thoughtless of him."

_

* * *

  
_

Several minutes later, they had managed to secure the unconscious mercenary and made their way down into the catacombs where Erwin and Herman had been not two hours before.

"What were they looking for in here?" Lara asked, squinting through the gloom, "I can't see a thing."

"The next statue, I'll bet," Indy replied dryly. "Look, this sarcophagus has been opened—recently." The archaeologist placed his hand on the cover, "Got a light?"

"Only this one," Lara offered him her keychain, upon which resided a little LED light.

"Thanks," Indy accepted it absently, still squinting at the glyphs he could barely make out in the low light, then he focused the tiny beam on the short passage.

"_Ra will guide your search,"_ he translated aloud before aiming the light into the open edge of the sarcophagus.

"It's empty," Lara pointed out needlessly, having known that it would be but dissapointed nonetheless. "The statue must have been there."

"Yeah, but look at this…" Indy trained the light on something else, a map etched in detail into black stone.

"The Mediterranean Sea," Lara breathed, "Complete, but… it's incredible. I can't believe the Ancient Egyptians explored so far."

"Yeah, and check _this_ out—the Scandinavian Peninsula."

"My god…" she breathed, "How could they have… hold on, there's an inscription over Norway, but it's in runes of some sort… I don't know the language."

Indy tipped his hat back and peered at it for a moment before breaking out in a surprised whistle. "Viking runes in an Egyptian sarcophagus!"

Lara grinned, "Well, Jones, what does it say?"

"Well, my Old Norse is a bit rusty, but…" he read over the runes carefully, "Guarded by the warrior soul, the last god of the damned awaits... hidden in the Eternal Snow where the fog is never driven away." He paused.

"I think."

Lara barely kept herself from rolling her eyes, "And what does that mean? I left my Viking-English dictionary at home."

Indiana scratched his chin thoughtfully, "Warrior soul could refer to… and eternal snow… that narrows it down a bit…"

"Jones?"

Indy ignored the interruption to his train of thought, "… and fog that's 'never driven away'"

"Jones!" Lara snapped impatiently.

"Hammerfest!" he pounded a fist into his hand, now certain, "It's the only place that matches everything."

"What?"

"Hammerfest. It's a Norwegian city that's got snow practically year-round due to the latitude and it's near the sea. The fog that comes in off the ocean freezes and doesn't lift for months on end and the Norse ruins in the area are perfect for the 'Warrior Soul' reference."

"Very well then, Dr. Jones," Lara was impressed by his quick insight, "Let's start heading for Norway."

Indy glanced at her, surprised at the use of his title, then froze when he felt something brush against his leg. Very slowly, he looked down—and his fears were confirmed. A large snake was beginning to climb up his leg, attracted to the human warmth.

Lara turned when she realized she was not immediately followed, "Jones?"

At the sight of his pale face, she started to get a bit worried, "Are you all right?"

"Snake," he managed.

She aimed the light at the offending creature, then relaxed, "It's not venomous," she informed the petrified archaeologist, thinking that was the problem.

"That's not the _point!_" the strangled hiss made the relic hunter smiles.

"It's just a snake, Jones. Scared?" she thought that would sting his male pride into doing something, but the part-time professor was terrified of snakes and not afraid to admit it.

"I hate snakes! Would you get it _off me!?"_

Lara didn't bother to stifle her laugh, "All right, all right, just… don't move."

"I'm not moving." Not moving at all, in fact. "Will you _hurry?_"

"Try to relax, Jones," Lara scolded, gently unwinding the snake from her companion's leg and turning it loose near the sarcophagus, "Better?"

"Only when we get out of here," Indy shot back, still unnerved by the snake-encounter.

"Let's get going, then—it's a long way to Norway."

**To be continued...**

**BTW... Reviews make me happy :)  
**


	8. Legends

**Chapter 8: Legends**

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A cargo plane flew across the blurred border between Norway and Sweden, carrying three passangers along with it's usual compliment of crates and boxes.

James had struck up a conversation with the pilot and co-pilot in the cabin while Lara stayed in the hold with Indy. She cast a somewhat envious look to the archaologist—peacefully napping with his hat over his eyes. Between the noise of the plane and the turbulence, Lara was unable to sleep and honestly had to wonder how the man could.

She returned her attention to the map of Norway. They needed a good short-cut to Hammerfest, but there wasn't anything obvious on the map… What were they doing, anyway? What were they risking their lives for?

A few old statues? … Statues that could apparently bypass time and space, but still… All right, so anyone of the type thet Herman tended to work for should not get their hands on anything with that kind of power, but who was to say it hadn't been a total fluke that Jones had appeared right when she touched the statue—it could have been something _he'd_ touched, after all.

Lara started to force her attention back to the map, yet again, when Jones jerked awake, breath catching in his chest.

Lara shot him a glare, though she wasn't sure why. "Another nightmare with that Nazi? Van Helgen? Next time, drink some coffee—it would save us both the trouble." Between lack of sleep and anxiety, she was snappish.

"Yes, well, sorry to bother you with my _personal issues,_" Jones' voice was laced with sarcasm and something darker as he shifted to lean back against one of the lashed-down crates.

Lara sighed aloud, "Jones… it's just a dream. The guy's got to be dead by now—he's not going to bother you here."

"Hey, sweetheart, it was just a few days ago for me," Jones shot back. "I know it's rediculous, but… it feels like he's still chasing me."

Lara rolled her eyes, "Remind me to get someone mentally stable next time I pick up a time-travelling stray."

"Yeah, yeah," Jones smirked a bit and opened his mouth to continue when James poked his head out of the cabin.

"Hey, buckle in—we're landing."

_

* * *

  
_

Several hours later, they arrived in Hammerfest. The trip had been slow going, snow chains a necessity on narrow mountain passes, but they arrived within the time Lara had estimated for the drive.

As they got out of the car, the crisp Norwegian air greeted them, the already dark afternoon chill and balnketed thickly with snow that cast back the orange glow of the streetlamps.

"It's changed a lot since the last time I was here," Indy observed, eyes scanning the landscape. "But it's still beautiful."

James was a little less enthralled, "I'm freezing," he complained, shivering despite the warm clothes both Indy and Lara had insisted on.

Indy grinned, "Welcome to Hammerfest."

Lara glanced to the sky, noting the flecks of snow already beginning to fall. "There's a storm coming."

Jones had to agree, "The weather won't let us head out to the ruins today; if it's still there, there's a good tavern this way. They'll have something hot to eat."

The small tavern was as promised, small but cozy inside, the locals inside chatting and laughing at scattered tables, the entire atmosphere of the place very pleasant despite the fact that none of the three could catch much of the Norwegian conversations. They simply moved in to sit near the bar, Indy struggling to remember the language he'd learned for the last time he had been here and Lara frustrated by her lack of knowledge of the local tongue.

Almost immediately, a friendly barkeeper approached them. "You must be foreigners," he observed in heavily accented English, "May I help you?"

James perked up a bit, "Do you have something actually… hot?" he chattered.

The barkeeper smiled, taking in James' shivering, and left, quickly returning with three bowls of soup, which he distributed to them.

"This smells really good, thanks," Indy picked up his spoon and dipped it into the bowl, preparing to take a bite.

Before he could, James yelped. "Damn! I burnt my tongue! This is hot!"

The barkeeper gave a good-natured laugh as he went back to the bar, "As you asked, friend."

Lara rolled her eyes and moved her bowl over a little to place her map on the table. "All right kids, eyes on the map. I checked our route and it says about eight kilometers, maybe less."

"You are on a… trip, yes?" The Norwegian barkeeper asked curiously, setting down three mugs of a local ale.

Jones glanced at him and decided he was just a nice man who wanted to make conversation with the outsiders—not uncommon, especially in the more remote places of the world. "Yeah, hey—we're a bit lost, though."

Lara gave the archaeologist a surprised glance that he studiously ignored, "Would you know where we could rent or buy some Icelandic horses or Norwegian Fjords?"

"Excuse us," Lara interjected, taking Jones by the arm and pulling him slightly away from the table. "Horses?" she hissed at him, "We've already rented the car!"

To her surprise, the man offered her a smile, "I know, but the mountain has no roads that a car will make it across and we'll need those horses to get there."

Lara considered it and repressed the urge to sigh. He was right, after all… "You're only saying that because you want to go against me, aren't you?" she accused anyway.

Jones winked—_winked!—_at her, pulling away. "Of course, sweetheart."

"So," he returned to his question, "Horses?"

The barkeeper nodded, "Of course, there is a farm near here that breeds Fjords. Ask for Josteinn—but where are you going? If you are lost, maybe…"

James grinned and waved off the concern, "Oh, don't worry. We're just looking for some ruins near here."

Lara glanced sharply at him and Jones gave him a withering glare.

The locals who understood silenced, the quiet quickly spreading as whispered explainations passed around the formerly noisy tavern.

James cleared his throat nervously, "Is that… bad?"

The barkeeper stuttered slightly, "Y-you should not go there."

Lara frowned, puzzled by the fear that was nearly tangible on the air. "Why not?"

"It is cursed—cursed!"

Indy hid a smile as he took a sip of the local brew the barkeeper had brought out. He didn't believe in curses, but experience told that the more myth and superstition surrounding a place, the better. They were on the right track.

Quiete suddenly, he felt a bit dizzy.

"Jones? You OK?" Lara asked as he pushed back from the table.

"I know you can't stand to be without me, sweetheart," he teased, "but I promise I'll be back."

_

* * *

  
_

Indy looked into the mirror, wondering why he felt so… sick. He turned on the faucet and splashed cool water onto his face before glancing back at the mirror, jumping and spinning when he saw the figure behind him.

A young red-haired woman stared at him with peircing jade eyes.

Indy opened his mouth, intending to ask what she was doing there, but he was cutt off.

"You should not go there," the woman stated. "You think this is merely another of your expiditions, but you are wrong. This one is different."

Indy froze—she seemed to know who he was. "Have we met?" he asked, doubting it. She didn't _look_ eighty.

"I do not believe so."

"Then why…?"

"I am observent," she indicated travel-worn clothing.

"Who are you and what do you want?"

"I want to warn you about the danger waiting at the ruins. If you go there, you may not make it back… and if you do, you will not be the same man."

Indy snorted, "Look, lady, I don't know why all of you don't want us to go there, but we're going. I don't believe in curses." _Only maybe you should,_ a little voice pointed out. It was not the first time he'd been warned away from an expidition, and while the warnings were wrong far more often than they were right, there had been times…

The woman shook her head, "If I cannot change your mind… at least take this. It brings good luck."

Indy took the proffered bronze medallion, glancing at it in surprise. It seems very valuable... or at least that was what his archaeologist voice was telling him... but, it was broken, a part of it was missing, what a shame... "The eye of Horus?" He said aloud at last.

"Yes. Good luck, Indiana Jones."

He looked up sharply, surprised and worried, but the woman was gone.

"… This is getting weird…"

_

* * *

  
_

The weather continued to worsen as they continued on horseback, but the animals were doing well and there wasn't much further before they would be at their destination.

Indy was distracted, happy to let his horse simply follow Lara's, thinking about the green-eyed woman from the tavern. It had been so… strange, somehow. He _knew_ she had known something about the ruins, but the worrying part was her seeming to know _him._ How? They had been so careful not to let his full name slip… Why had she said that?

Lara twisted around in her saddle to look at him oddly, "Who?"

Indy hadn't meant to say that aloud. "The red-haired woman from the tavern."

James frowned slightly, "There wasn't a red-head—I would have noticed a woman like that, you know what I mean?"

Lara shook her head, "The perfect couple: the crazy one and the idiot."

Jones didn't laugh, "There was—I talked to her."

The other two glanced at each other, but kept further comments to themselves, then Indy's horse stopped.

"What is it?" Lara asked, worried that the animal was tiring.

Jones was peering at something off to the side, "A stone."

James rolled his eyes, shivering a bit, "The discovery of the century," he stated sarcasticly. "A stone."

Jones dismounted, approaching the squarish rock, "It's hand carved," he explained absently, starting to brush the snow away from it.

Lara smiled; finally, a sign that they were getting close! "You've got eagle eyes, Jones. I hadn't noticed it."

"It's what I do for a living, sweetheart," Indy teased as Viking runes became visible from under their coating of white powder. "'The Ragnarök will begin and the warrior will reawaken.'" He translated after a few moments.

"What's Rag—ragnarok?"

"Ragnarök," Lara corrected, giving the word a subtly different sound, "It's the Nordic Judgement Day; the final battle between the gods."

Jones returned to his horse and mounted up, "We're getting close; let's keep moving."

**To be continued…**

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**Sorry for the long delay :( But I was studing a lot and I didn't have much time. I promise next chapter will be sooner ;) .... meanwhile you can review! :) And thank shadewolf7 again, she's doing a great work betareading this story! :)**


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